


You're Only Lonely if You're Alone

by KaelaByte



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Catlock, Gen, John's lonely, Kinda, One Shot, not really but you'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelaByte/pseuds/KaelaByte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John felt everything sharpen around him as his military training kicked in. Just then a small black blur streaked past, yowling loudly. Right behind it was a large calico tom, obviously intent on getting ahold of the smaller cat. Laughing John  stepped back as the black cat dashed behind him</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Only Lonely if You're Alone

Stepping out from his apartment John looked around for the source of the noise. There was nothing out front so he worked his way around the the back of the flat, keeping an eye out for anyone that might have ducked out of sight. Seeing nothing he was just about to turn to head back in when a small blur of movement caught his attention. 

Settling onto the balls of his feet John felt everything sharpen around him as his military training kicked in. Just then a small black blur streaked past, yowling loudly. Right behind it was a large calico tom, obviously intent on getting ahold of the smaller cat. Laughing John  stepped back as the black cat dashed behind him, trying to clamber up onto the garbage cans only to have them crash down around the creature. Snorting John walked over to make sure the cat was ok. Two blue grey eyes glared back at him as the cat huddled in the mess it had made. 

“So you must have been the one causing all the noise.” John teased, settling onto his haunches to look at the cat more clearly.

Behind him the calico sat proudly just out of arms reach, watching the two of them.

Reaching his hand out John stopped with his fingers a few inches away from the startled cat. “Go on then. I’m not gonna hurt you ya berk.” John chided softly, voice gentle with amusement as the cat slowly stretched out it’s nose to sniff at him. 

After a minute the black cat made his way out of the pile of rubbish bins and wound himself around John’s ankles, purring slightly. 

“There you go.” He said, looking back at the other one. “so what were you two fighting about?” he mused aloud, reaching over to try and pet the other cat. The calico merely looked at his hand and stood, moving back a few inches with what seemed to be distain. John would have sworn the cat was looking at him condescendingly if anything. 

“Fine then.” he huffed, placing his hand on the black tom’s head instead. The cat arched up into his touch, keeping his eyes on the other cat watching them from a safe distance. 

After a few minutes of petting John decided he had better get inside to finish dressing for work. Marge would kill him if she had to cover again, and over a cat of all things. As he turned to go he tried to shoo the cats away, hopefully they would make their way back home, they were too well fed to be strays, despite the lack of collars. 

The calico moved to the back of the alley, jumping atop a fence separating his house from a restaurant on the next street over. Perching there it seemed to look at the other cat as though waiting for it to follow. 

Chuckling John walked away, leaving the cats to work out whatever it was that had caused the ruckus only to feel a small scratch at his ankle as he turned the corner. The black one had followed him all the way to the mouth of the alley, though it seemed reluctant to leave the alley itself. Rubbing against his leg John felt the purring grow in volume, the rumble obvious even through his blue jeans. 

“I can’t keep you.” John said, looking down at the skinny animal. “My landlady would have a fit. Besides, I’m sure you have a home.” He said, trying to push the cat off with his feet. When that didn’t work he sighed and tried just walking away. 

For a moment he thought he had managed to leave it behind and a small twinge of regret pierced him before the cat trotted up next to him, tail stuck high in the air in obvious fear. The cat looked everywhere but at him, every sound making it shy and go behind his legs slightly before it ventured out again as though leading the way.

“I really can’t.” John insisted, mostly to himself. After all Mrs. Hudson had never said anything about being allowed to keep pets, much less on such short notice. Reaching his door he rested his hand on the knob for a moment, looking down at the cat who seemed impatient to get inside. 

Thinking to himself John finally wavered enough to admit that he might appreciate the company of a pet, not that that meant he was keeping it. But it had been lonely since he had come back. He’d tried to reconnect with old friends but it was difficult when every loud noise made him just, adrenaline making everything seem both far away and far too close. No, it never quite worked out. He might meet up once, twice at most then things conveniently got in the way. It wasn’t just them, he made his fair share of excuses. Never the less, he was lonely. 

Maybe just for a few days, I’ll put up posters and try to find the owner.” John mumbled, opening the door. The instant it had cracked open enough the cat shot through the opening.

“No! Hey!” John shouted after it, growling in frustration when it failed to stop the cat from streaking up the stairs. At least it was headed to his flat and not Mrs. Hudson’s. He thought ruefully. as he walked up the stairs the cat peered back at him, meowing impatiently as it’s tailed flicked back and forth.

John opened the door for it, walking in just behind. As he hung up his coat the cat began inspecting everything in his apartment, scarce as it was. He didn’t really have much to fill the flat with, just a few mementos from home and old army gear he had been allowed to keep. Well, some of it had been allowed anyway, his thoughts strayed to the old browning nestled in his bedside drawers. He really should have returned it, but when the opportunity arose to take it with him he just couldn’t resist. Not that he could tell you why he kept it. 

Having thoroughly inspected the living room the cat made it’s way back to the bedroom John used, the upstairs bed primarily unused except when Harry came to stay after breaking up with her newest girlfriend. 

Rubbing the back of his head John went into the bathroom, to finish getting ready. As he was wiping the shaving cream form his face the cat reappeared, looking pleased. 

“Where have you been?” John asked, feeling slightly foolish for talking to the thing. But it wasn’t like anyone was here to hear him he supposed. The cat meowed, rubbing up against John’s jumper as he begged for attention.

“Stop that.” John scolded, looking down in dismay. the cream coloured jumper was now riddled with black hair, speckling the once clean surface. “Now look what you’ve done.” he sighed, absently petting the cat’s ears. 

After a moment John moved back, heading to the bedroom to change again. The cat followed making mewling noises at him as though trying to speak. “You really are rather nosey.” John said, looking over as the cat jumped up to settle onto his discarded jumper. 

“I’ve got to go now. You stay out of trouble and maybe Mrs. Hudson will let me keep you ‘till I find your home.” he said, working his feet into his shoes. Giving the cat one last scratch he made his way out of the flat, thoughts lingering on the cat even as he walked to work.

OoOoO

Several weeks later John found himself at the local shop, debating whether or not he should pick up the cat bowls on the clearance rack. No one had shown up to claim the cat yet and Mrs. Hudson was pleased to have some company during the day, even if he did tend to leave “gifts” at the door steps. 

Fuck it, he thought to himself, putting the bowls in the basket. He might as well accept the fact that he was probably going to keep the thing. Of course he should probably give it a name. He had tried several times once it became apparent that nobody was coming, but nothing really seemed to fit the cat. It was too ornery and mischievous for anything that he would have tried as a child, and any old blokes name just seem too, ordinary. Something about the cat just called for a name that wasn’t used often.

Placing his items on the chip and pin machine John struggled through check out once again. At least this time he managed without another shouting match.

Once home he dropped the groceries on the table, figuring he would put them away in a few minutes. The cat bowls got places next to the fridge, each one filled with either water or the one brand of moist food the cat would concede to eat. He had discovered through trial and error that the cat was pickier than any of his experience would have led him to expect. Not one of the cats he had owned as a child was nearly as stubborn about food. He would swear the cat was as intelligent as he was after he woke up one morning to find a store brand cat food had been placed in every shoe he owned. His slippers still smelt of tuna.

“Here boy.” John called, knowing the cat would only come out when it deemed it was good and ready. Setting the kettle on the stove he struggled to get the pilot to light for a few seconds before it finally burst into flame. Leaning back against the counter he whistled a short two note call, hoping the cat would come out from wherever it went whenever it wasn't in the mood to be sociable. the flat was small, scarcely more than two rooms but the damn thing still managed to elude him.

Finally he spotted a glimpse of a sleek black tail weaving underneath the table.

"About time." John scolded slightly, smiling down at the tom. "You know, I can't just keep calling you 'cat'. You're gonna have to answer to a name sooner or later." he informed the feline.

Obviously uninterested in what John was saying the cat meandered over to the bowls, sniffing each in turn before returning to rub against John's pant leg. A gentle purr was beginning to build in the creatures chest as it wound around him.

"Glad you like them." John said, grinning. After a few moments thought he was interrupted by the shrill screech of the kettle. Pouring himself a cup of his favorite Earl Grey John settled himself into his chair near the telly, grabbing his laptop off the counter as he went. 

Booting up took ages and he had nearly finished his cup before he could finally pull the browser up After another few seconds of sorting through sites he finally found what he was looking for. On the screen name after name scrolled by as he searched for something that he could call his new companion. Skipping right past the first fifty he didn't really start paying attention until more unusual names began cropping up.  

Scratching at the fabric on the chair John whistled for the cat again, waiting till it was settled beside him. 

"Alright lets have another go at this, shall we?" he asked, looking down into the startling grey eyes. Amused contempt seemed to stare back at him as he began listing a few names that sounded ok.

"How about Gavin?" he asked hopefully. The cat merely flicked its tail, looking away once again. "Alright, erm, Haymitch?" he tried. when that failed to elicit a response he tried several more, each one glancing right off the cat. "Fine." John grumbled, about to shut the browser when a name caught his eye.

"Sherlock?" he said aloud, laughing slightly at the sound of it. The cat's head popped up ears flicking forward as John spoke. Startled John tried again, "Sherlock then?" he affirmed, rolling his eyes. Of course the bloody thing would respond to the most ridiculous name on there.

"I suppose I can deal with that." he said, scratching the soft fur behind the cat's head. Smiling John settled more firmly back into the chair, setting his laptop aside as he flicked on the telly. After a few minutes Sherlock moved to settle into his lap, a soft rumble giving away to a gentle snore as he fell asleep. 

Letting his head fall back onto the cushion John allowed himself to drift off as well, content with his new company and glad to finally have someone to come home to at the end of the day. Even if it was just a cat.


End file.
